Part of the Job
by VeIaRrGtOh
Summary: Charlotte Beauvais and her team are excellent at what they do - going undercover to take down crime and prevent catastrophe. But when they are assigned to investigate the up-and-coming medical company GeneCo, they find themselves in over their heads. Will Charlotte lose herself and her love for the sake of her job? RottixOC, takes place 25 years before the events of "Repo!"
1. Chapter 1

_Hi all, and welcome to the story! Just a quick introduction: this story takes place 25 years before the events of "Repo." It's a story of intrigue and deception about the early years of GeneCo, concerning Rotti and an investigative team that is beginning to learn the true horrors behind GeneCo. There is some language and suggestive themes, but I'm assuming that if you've seen the movie or the play you probably aren't bothered by that._

_Thank you for reading, and please review!_

* * *

It was 8:30 a.m., Monday, May 26. Just as Charlotte Beauvais collapsed at her desk, eager for a second of quiet after the hellish morning commute, her co-worker Mike O'Shaunessy peeked over the short cubicle wall that divided their work spaces and looked down at her. His eyes were bleary and his black hair matted and dull, reflecting Charlotte's Monday morning exhaustion, but beneath the sleepiness, his eyes glinted in a friendly way.

"Rough morning?" he asked.

Charlotte peered up at him through eyes that were, like Mike's, not completely pulled from the stupor of sleep. She pushed her blond hair back, stretched her arms out in front of her, then crossed them on her desk and leaned her face down.

"You could say that," Charlotte spoke sleepily, talking to her arms. "Was running late, so I thought I'd treat myself to a cab. Of course, we hit just about every light possible once we reached midtown. The kind of trip that makes you want to pay the driver to just turn around and take you back."

"Well, I hope your weekend was worth the Monday morning," Mike said, walking around from his space to perch on the edge of Charlotte's desk.

"Not really," she continued to speak from the nest of her arms. "We went out for drinks with a couple of old school friends, but that was it for the social calendar."

"So it was just really Sunday night that did you in," Mike teased.

Charlotte turned her head to shoot him a look. "Get your butt out of my face," she croaked, half-heartedly pushing at him to vacate her desk without lifting her head up. Mike laughed and scooted over.

"My powers of deduction, always flawless," he chuckled. Charlotte pushed herself up from her desk with a groan, and leaned back in her swivel chair.

"So how was your weekend?" she asked casually.

"Normal," Mike answered, mirroring her tone, but his twisted smile betrayed him.

"Come on, don't make me beg," Charlotte said exasperatedly. "How was your date? With Daisy what's-her-name?"

"Let's just say my weekend exploits are not fit to discuss with an esteemed lady such as yourself," Mike grinned.

"Yeah right," Charlotte snorted. "You did not."

"Oh," Mike laughed. "I did."

"Mike, really? Wasn't she a family friend of your-"

"Mike, Char," a voice interrupted them, and they both looked up to see their colleague Nadir Sukhdeo walking quickly toward their cubicles. He was composed as always, but his walk was brisk, and Mike and Charlotte both sat up straighter upon seeing him approach. "Meeting in the north conference room, five minutes," he continued.

"A job?" Charlotte inquired.

"Yeah, I think," Nadir responded. "Dimitri wants us there ASAP. But if you're wondering why I'm in a hurry this morning," he called over his shoulder with a smile as he passed their cubicles and moved on through the office, "it's because I've heard there was a top secret delivery to the conference room this morning, in prep for this meeting."

Charlotte and Mike turned to face each other as Nadir's back disappeared across the office, hurrying to alert the others to the message.

"Coffee?" Charlotte whispered excitedly.

"Donuts," Mike responded.

"Please, please bagels and cream cheese," Charlotte said, and she was off, hurrying toward the conference room on the north side of the building, Mike right behind her.

The office floor was not large, perhaps 70x100 yards, filled with chest-high cubicles. Surrounding the cubicles were conference rooms, window offices for superiors and various supply closets. The building itself was stark in its simplicity, but the government employees who inhabited it filled their offices and workspaces with bits of their personality: family pictures, a rock band poster here or there and knick knacks from cities visited. Of course, there was also the Wall of Morons. It had begun as a small bulletin board of emails, pictures and news clippings of various lawbreakers and criminals, many of whom were caught and charged by agents in the office, doing stupid things. The Wall had of course expanded in its years of existence, and the bulletin board was no longer even visible beneath the hundreds of clippings and papers. FBI agents, after all, had a sense of humor too.

Charlotte and Mike made good time on their journey across the office, but they were not the first to arrive in the conference room.

"Morning lads," Charlotte trilled as she hurried into the room. "Where's the secret delivery?"

"Never mind, I smell it," Mike sighed with satisfaction, gently pushing Charlotte out of the way in his haste to attack the small mound of donuts that sat in the middle of the long, narrow conference table in the middle of the room.

Charlotte took a bit more time, pouring herself a cup of coffee first – black – and savoring the first sip, before taking a seat and grabbing an especially large sesame seed bagel from the pile in front of her and beginning to hack it open with a plastic knife. After smothering the bagel in cream cheese, she sat back in her chair and looked around. Her greeting had been returned mostly by a series of grunts and nods, as the men around her dug into their breakfast. _Funny_, Charlotte thought as she bit into her bagel, _how we all lose it at the thought of free food, especially breakfast food_. And especially when it was on the dime of the government – the Manhattan offices of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, to be precise.

Charlotte Beauvais was a member of an elite covert team within the FBI. Officially, on paper, she and her team were researchers. They didn't have a specific title, but if they did, it would be along the lines of "research." They looked into possible threats to the United States, international and homegrown. The team did preliminary research, and would sometimes work undercover, gathering information through reconnaissance. But they had gained a reputation within the Bureau of being exceptionally good at what they did, and in recent years they had been asked to do more – to prevent the threats they investigated. The team was close-knit, highly secretive and highly skilled, and they always worked as a unit. They behaved as a family, but were flawless in their work.

She glanced around the table to take stock of who had arrived already. Nadir must have abandoned his task of alerting all of the team members to the breakfast smorgasbord, because he was seated at the end of the table, hungrily devouring a jelly doughnut. Nadir had just turned 40, but the doughnut was not exactly normal for him: he took great care of his body, which was still lean and muscular. As far as Charlotte was concerned, Nadir was a veteran of the Bureau, who had traveled enough, seen enough, and most likely prevented enough international wars to last a lifetime. His dark skin and wavy dark hair betrayed his Arabic heritage and Indian nationality, but Nadir was secretive about his past. Charlotte didn't know much about what his life had been like before he became an FBI agent, but she never pressed him. He obviously liked where he was now.

Next to Nadir sat Alexander Finley, double-fisting his coffee and bagel. Alex was in his mid-thirties, muscular and tall. He had joined the Bureau around the same time that Mike and Charlotte had, and the three had been trained and tested together before they were formally invited to "switch departments;" that is, switch from the entry-level positions they had held to the team they now served. Alex had an infectious sense of humor, as well as a short-fused temper. It had cost them once or twice in the field, but Alex was so damn good at everything else required by their work: he was an expert marksman, fluent in several languages, smart as a whip, and enduring. Charlotte and Mike had chased after him in training, knowing they were both not naturals like Alex was, and hoping to gain a bit of insight by befriending him. Alex knew he was talented, but that was a non-issue – most of the time.

Next to Alex and across from Charlotte sat Ferdinand Kolacny, the technical mind of the group. Ferdie was picking at his bagel, looking distracted as usual. Thin, with his prematurely gray hair beginning to recede as well, Ferdie nonetheless had a youthful, happy face one couldn't help but like. A former hacker for hire, the Bureau had bought his loyalty long ago. Before he joined their team, Ferdie had been the primary builder of the FBI's current file database, as well as the firewall that surrounded it. He was undeniably brilliant, but he was the sort of kind person to understand that not everyone knew exactly what an OCR or UUCode was and what they did, and he worked well with the team in that way. He always had a solution, but had a knack for making it seem like the team had come up with it together.

Sam Fontaine entered, and took the empty seat next to Mike. Charlotte called Sam her "All-American," if not because of his cropped blond hair, blue eyes and quarterback physique, then certainly because of his slight drawl and impeccable manners. Sam had entered the FBI as a wide-eyed college graduate, but he had soon showed his intuitive nature in his research and observant deference. It made him an easy candidate to join their little team, and he had brought a fresh look to their most recent investigations.

Mike interrupted Charlotte's musing by swallowing loudly and grabbing another doughnut. Mike was her best friend in the entire world, except for her husband Will. Mike and Charlotte had clicked instantly when they met: they had subsequent preliminary interviews with the FBI, and had got to talking. Mike was the kind of guy everyone wanted to be friends with: endlessly charming, humorous, smart, good-looking – the list could go on and on. But to Charlotte, he was also annoying, kind, crude, and necessary to her work. She had been overwhelmed when she was first accepted into the Bureau, and he had been the friend who empathized and sat in the same sinking ship as she. Mike reminded her of the brothers she had left behind long ago. They learned together as they made their way through the departments of the Bureau, before they, along with Alex, were picked up and selected for the team they currently called family.

"Mmmm," Mike was almost moaning about his doughnut and coffee. Charlotte gave him a sharp look.

"Stop that," she scolded. "Just eat it for God's sake. Don't make a production."

Mike smiled wickedly back at her. "Funny, that's what Daisy what's-her-name said on Saturday night."

"Urghh," Charlotte groaned as Alex, Sam and Ferdie burst into laughter. Nadir worked to hold back a smile, but he was mostly unsuccessful.

"Oh damn," Alex gulped down a bit of coffee to clear his pipes of the dough that had probably lodged itself there in his laughing. "The temp receptionist? What happened _there_?"

Mike chuckled. "Man, it was a hell of a weekend."

Charlotte gave Mike a slap on the arm, and he flinched away, laughing, but as he was interrupted before he could delve into the details by Dimitri Cohen, the team's supervisor and leader, as he came into the conference room and shut the door behind him.

"Ok, let's settle down," he said. "Mike, glorious as your tales may be, I think they can wait until after work hours."

"Thank you, Dimitri!" Charlotte turned to face him, and the rest of the team, while attempting to quiet their laughter, following Charlotte's lead, turned to face their boss. Dimitri took his seat at the head of the table – officially, he was their director and leader, but that simply meant he was the one who called meetings to order. In the field, Dimitri went undercover just as often as the others, and was by their sides in any investigation. He was part of the brotherhood that the team had formed themselves into, but it was as if he was the oldest brother – the most responsible and the most watchful. Dimitri oversaw everything his team did. An older man nearing 55, his slightly graying hair and worn face were his only features that matched his age. He was still remarkably youthful and well-built – an imposing yet somehow calming presence to any meeting or interrogation. While the other members of the team usually were a little lax in the business casual they wore to the office every day, Dimitri would not be seen around the office unless he was in one of his perfectly fitted and pressed suits.

With Dimitri seated at the head of the table, the team, strange and rag-tag family that they were, all sat up a bit straighter and focused on him.

"Good morning everybody," Dimitri began. "I hope you all get your fill of bagels and doughnuts, and you can thank Senator Robert Hammond of Massachusetts for them. I met with him Friday and he had a lead on our newest assignment."

There was a knock at the door and an intern entered, carrying several folders. She passed them off to Dimitri and quietly left the room. He passed half of the pile to Charlotte and the other half to Ferdie. This was routine, they each took one and passed it on. Charlotte always felt a twinge of anticipation right before she opened a new case file. What would be inside? Would this be a true research assignment, in which they would be stuck in front of computers for days and weeks to come? Or would it be slightly more involved?

"Senator Hammond, as you may know," Dimitri continued, "heads the Senate's newest committee, which conducts investigations into the most powerful private companies in the country. This committee strives to investigate the country's largest corporations without… being ostentatious about it. They have a lot on their plate, which is why he brought this to me."

Charlotte opened the folder and scanned the cover page. GeneCo. The up-and-coming supplier for the medical industry. Her stomach flipped over itself with dread.

* * *

_So the team will be investigating GeneCo! Read on to see what they'll need to do..._

_Please leave a review and thanks for joining me for this story! _

_Terra_


	2. Chapter 2

Charlotte looked up from the folder and realized everyone was shooting her glances as they too looked through their packets. Dimitri cleared his throat and brought all attention back to him.

"Officially, this is just a preliminary, cautious investigation," he said, and his voice was carefully level. "GeneCo, as I know we all know, is a company that has been rising in profit steadily and rapidly in the last five years. I spoke with the Senator on Friday about what he and his team have been looking into. Obviously I told him that I'd prefer he never met any of you, but he insisted that he explain to you his interest in this company." Dimitri looked a little exasperated. He walked to the wall, where a remote activator linked to a projector that floated silently near the ceiling above the conference table. He pressed several buttons, and the projector came to life with a quiet hum. A moment later, it was throwing light onto the table in front of the team. The light morphed before their eyes into the shape of a man – or at least his chest and above. Dimitri dimmed the lights very slightly as the figure began to speak.

"Good morning, agents," Senator Hammond spoke. "I wish I could be there to meet with you in person, but I of course completely understand your director's need to reveal your faces to as little people as possible, and I fully respect that need for anonymity. That's what helps you get the job done undercover, after all! But I wanted to find some way to talk to you, to stress the importance of the job you are about to undertake."

Hammond's recording was rotating slowly on the spot, so when his face reached Charlotte, she could see that he was an older, balding man, with thick-rimmed glasses and a beard a couple of days old. He looked ahead, trying to imagine the people he might be talking to, as all recordings did when they were speaking to a camera.

"My team and I, which consists of eight other representatives in government, have been tasked with looking into privately owned companies, banks and various corporations. In some cases, we look at shareholders and benefactors of these companies, those that much invested or lots to lose. We're not advertising what we're doing, but we're not a secret group either. Mostly we have existed to remind companies that the government is not standing for the reckless behavior which has slowly been bankrupting our country for the past 60 years.

"Our council has found some rather disconcerting information concerning GeneCo, which you may have heard of. If you're not familiar with the company, GeneCo provides artificial skin and muscle tissue mostly, for plastic surgeons and hospitals across the country and some internationally. Their stock has been rising rapidly in the past couple of years, mostly because of the country's growing obsession with plastic surgery." Hammond's recording looked dismissive. "But the government has also put some amount of funding into GeneCo, because of the health benefits we see from their work – after all, they do supply our hospitals with much needed resources, such as various surgical machinery and of course, their artificial tissue for replacement. The company is also expanding into medical research."

Again the glances toward Charlotte to see her reaction. She stared ahead at Hammond.

"In other words, GeneCo is primed to become one of the largest and most profitable companies in the country," Hammond summarized. "Now this may all sound like great stuff, nothing wrong at all. But we're a little uneasy about this rapid expanding, and if the government is going to continue to support GeneCo, then I've got orders that we need to take a closer look. That's where you all come in. I can't exactly storm into the offices of GeneCo and demand to see their books, their labs, and their lists. We need you to build a basic profile of the company, and learn a little bit more about its leadership, what they're working on, and what their goals are.

"Dimitri has promised me he will fill you in on anything else you need to know, but I wanted to address you in order to stress the importance of this job. I understand I have not given you much to go on, but I really need you all, whoever you are, to find out everything you can about this company. Thank you for your service to our country." Hammond nodded and the recording flickered and switched off. Dimitri pulled the lights back up to their normal strength.

The team was quiet, looking confusedly at Dimitri.

"Look," he said, his voice guarded, "I know this doesn't sound exactly like one of our normal jobs – no international terrorism, no mobsters attempting robbery. But the Senator came to me, very earnest in his belief that there is something going on behind the scenes at GeneCo that is a bit… undesirable. So all we're going to do is build a profile, a blueprint of the company. That's it. Shouldn't be a long job, because it's all research and some undercover."

"Undesirable?" Mike asked, the skepticism in his voice plain.

"That's what I've been told," Dimitri said.

"So, he didn't give you any specifics on why he wants the FBI to infiltrate this company and learn all of its dirty little secrets?" Mike pushed. Dimitri frowned.

"Specifics – not exactly. He's got his own team and sources to protect as well," Dimitri said. "What he was able to tell me was that GeneCo's upper management has not been especially forthcoming with any kind of information, even when Hammond explained that in order for the U.S. government to continue to finance some of GeneCo's production, they would need to know more about all their business deals and their research. Hammond's impression was that they've got more going on behind the scenes then they're letting on publicly. Hammond wants to know about it, but he wants to keep good face with GeneCo, so that's why he's come to us. He thinks that something is going on, but he can't be demanding an investigation of the whole damn company."

"Boss…" Alex began.

"I know," Dimitri said.

"He thinks?" Alex looked wary. "He has a hunch that the company stinks, so we're going in?"

"We're not going to be doing anything about the company, and we probably won't even find much worth reporting," Dimitri answered. "Just looking. Building a profile, seeing what we see. It's simple. We're going to do as much preliminary research as we can, then do a little bit of undercover. If you'll open your packets, we can go over the job in a bit more detail."

The team all did as he requested, and Dimitri continued. "Brief history of GeneCo, and there's more detail in the file, but the company was founded ten years ago by Rotti Largo, entrepreneur and businessman. He's not exactly your typical rags to riches story – he made friends very, very quickly, and for a startup company, GeneCo has come a long way in a short time. You all have undoubtedly heard of Largo – he's very much the face of GeneCo. Operates and oversees every part of it, but makes sure that audiences know him. He's made a scene in the tabloids lately – got a little too pleased with his fortune and became the toast of Manhattan. Married a wealthy heiress, throws and attends parties, known, unfortunately for his wife, for his wandering ways. He's got a flair for the dramatic – everything's a show with the Largo family.

"Rotti has several VP's, secretaries, directors, etc. in the top tier of GeneCo. They're all pieces of the pie, but remember, Rotti controls everything, and it's very much his company. We're going to build files on all of them – who they are, where they grew up, where they were educated, how much they make, what they're interested in, what their stake in the company is and if they have any connections that we should be concerned about. We're also going to look at the labs, the lab directors, basically everyone we can." For the third time Charlotte was subject of glances. She continued to study her file.

"We're going to begin with a couple of days of just plain research. See what we can get through sources, hacking, whatever. We are going to be doing undercover next week, and our cover," and Dimitri smirked slightly, "is going to be as representatives from Industrial Workers Union 537J, which the janitorial staff, receptionists, clerks, and lower level lab workers are part of. GeneCo employees have been with this union for a couple of years now, but we're going to check in for an annual meeting, and to discuss the future of the partnership." This sentiment was greeted by a couple of snorts. "This will allow us," Dimitri said, unable to suppress a smile, "to tour GeneCo's facilities, interview the workers and meet with tons of the upper management, including Largo himself. If you'll all look at your new identities and start thinking about them."

Charlotte flipped a couple of pages until she found a separate packet. A passport, license, birth records, her membership card to the union, notes and more were paper-clipped together. Charlotte stared at her own picture, but it wasn't her name on the documents. She was now Anna Freir, Vice President of Employee Relations, elected to the union leadership board nine months ago. Charlotte perused the notes quickly. Anna was married to an international businessman who was often traveling for work, and had no children. Anna had studied law at UCLA and moved to New York with her husband, where she quickly began work for IWUW 537G, and rose through the ranks.

"As reps for this union, you're going to be in meetings for a couple of days with Largo and his management. You'll also be able to interview a couple of the lower level workers. We need to use these meetings to find out everything we can about what GeneCo's working on currently and what their future holds. Befriend anyone if you can: remember, you're union reps, so it's perfectly natural for you to want to know about the state of the company and the workers who work there.

"GeneCo should be mostly cooperative with this. We've been working on this cover all weekend, and we just received an early morning approval from Largo's offices, that he and his staff will be pleased to meet with us next week. Remember, Rotti Largo knows how to work a crowd – he's a favorite with people for his work at hospitals – so he'll want to be seen as the kind of guy who can peaceably work with the union for the betterment of his employees."

Dimitri stood up behind and walked behind his chair. He looked at all of his team members closely, waiting for questions.

"It really is going to be simple, guys," he said when no one spoke. "We've done tougher stuff. Essentially, we're just gathering information."

Charlotte looked around. Each member of the team was engrossed in the packet before him. She glanced to her right at Mike – she couldn't make out the name on his file, but there was no Union card. Before she could lean over to get a better look, he flipped the file shut and tossed it casually on the table in front of him. He looked at Charlotte, and his gaze was unreadable – pity? Worry? But next moment his face was turned to Dimitri.

"If it's good enough for you, it's good enough for me, boss," Mike said. Dimitri smiled and nodded.

"That's what I like to hear," he said. "If you all don't have any immediate questions, I think we're all done here. I'd like to continue to look over your packets and think of any questions you might have for me. I'll be around to see all of you individually today, so we can talk about it in more detail. Other than that, I think we're good. Thanks guys."

The chairs creaked a bit as the team got up to head back to their respective desks, Sam and Alex pausing by the bagels to take a couple more for the day. Charlotte got up to follow Mike, but hesitated at the door.

"Charlotte, can I speak to you for a moment actually?" Dimitri's voice came from behind her. She turned and walked past Sam, who was the last to exit. She closed the door behind her.

"Sir?" she asked, even though she knew what he wanted to talk about. Dimitri sat back down in his vacated chair, and indicated that she should do the same. She sat down.

"I just wanted to check in," Dimitri began. "I hope I didn't make that too awkward for you. I know it's a bit of a surprise."

"No, it's fine," Charlotte said. "I guess I was a little shocked that it was GeneCo, of all companies, but I'm fine. It wasn't awkward." She smiled at him.

"Ok, good," Dimitri said. "It was a bit of a shock for me too, when Hammond first came to me. The next thing I need to know is this: are you going to be ok working this job?"

"You mean because of Will?" Charlotte asked.

"Yes," Dimitri answered. "How open are you with him about what you do?"

"He knows that I work with the government, and that my work is classified," she said. "I hardly ever give him information other than just to let him know if I'm traveling. But he's always been great about it. Never asks too many questions. He trusts me." Charlotte took a breath. "It freaks me out a little that we'll be investigating the company my husband works for, but I think that also gives me an interesting insight. I can do the job, no problem."

Dimitri paused before speaking. "You're sure?"

"Yes," Charlotte said, and her tone was firm. "It's fine. It's the job."

"Right," Dimitri said, still looking at her closely. "Ok, then. That's a relief. I absolutely trust you to be able to carry out this investigation, but I wanted to make sure you were comfortable with it."

Charlotte smiled to reassure him. Dimitri was absolutely the level head of the team. If the others were the brothers she horsed around with, teased and was teased by, then Dimitri was the oldest brother making sure she was comfortable and that the team didn't lose it completely.

"The other thing I wanted to talk to you about is part of the job," Dimitri continued, and now he looked determined. "You saw your new identity?"

Charlotte nodded and Dimitri clenched his jaw ever so slightly. "As a VP for the Union, you're going to be sitting in on meetings with GeneCo, and with Rotti Largo in particular. I'm sure you're aware of his… reputation?"

Charlotte hesitated before nodding again. Rotti Largo, billionaire playboy. Absent husband and father, ruthless businessman and womanizer extraordinaire.

"We don't know what is going to happen when we send you all in there," Dimitri continued, his eyes never leaving Charlotte's as they looked for any sign of unease. "We don't know how any of them are going to react, if they're even going to like any of you." Charlotte laughed softly. "But… are you prepared to do whatever you can to get information about GeneCo? You're going to be spending some time with Rotti himself. If he's interested, and if you think it will bring us information we need…"

Charlotte knew what was coming. It was part of the job.

"…are you willing to sleep with him?"

She smiled back at him and patted his arm reassuringly.

"Dimitri, you know me," she said. "I'll do whatever it takes."


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: I want to explain a bit about how the idea for this story came about. _

_After watching the film, I was impressed by how the creators saw our world developing: the events of "Repo" are not that far into the future from the present day, yet that world is so utterly repulsive – materialistic and immoral. How did our society spiral so quickly out of control? So I wanted to write something that took place in between present day and "Repo," to show the process of this abandonment of morals. As you read, try to imagine what our world could be like in 20 years or so if the worst people continued to flourish unchecked. I figured government and business would be corrupt, and people like Charlotte, who strive to do the right thing, feel that they have to do so by any means, even if that means sleeping with the enemy._

_Just some thoughts, maybe a critique of our society. Let me know what you think in the comments!_

* * *

Charlotte wrinkled her nose as the foul odor filled the compartment. She smelled it every day when the train she rode home passed under a particularly foul-smelling factory. Most days she didn't even notice it, but today the stench was more potent than normal. All the rancid smells of a city combined with whatever was emitted from that factory were enough to make a frailer woman weak-kneed. But Charlotte had been born and raised in the city, and though she still generally deplored the general lack of hygiene from her fellow New Yorkers as well as the filthy state of public places like the subway, she had grown used to it, even accepting of it: it was just the way things were.

The train rolled out of the tunnel over which the factory sat and into the fading sunlight. The stench lingered faintly in Charlotte's mind as she leaned against the window and stared out at her surroundings. There was probably a few hours left of summer sunlight at least, but the sun had already started to create orange and red streaks over the hazy city sky. A peaceful night hopefully. Charlotte counted herself lucky; she had left work earlier than usual.

She was jerked from her reverie by the couple occupying the seats across the aisle from her. Shortly after the couple had boarded, they had started kissing passionately, and now it was starting to get a little loud. Charlotte shot them a quick look of annoyance, but both were oblivious to the world. She couldn't really even tell them apart now: the boy's hair was just as long as the girl's, and they were dressed in similar ripped denim and tightly stretched leather. She studied them for a quick second, knowing they wouldn't notice her, before turning back out to face her window.

People were so open about their sexuality these days, Charlotte mused. She supposed she was more accepting than some, but still, the couple over there was pushing it. Charlotte smiled darkly when she thought of the look that would appear on her mother's face if she could see this public display of affection.

Charlotte had been raised in a staunchly old-fashioned household, the only girl among three brothers and overbearing parents. Obviously, she had left as soon as she could and didn't spend much time trying to keep in touch. She had found a happy home almost immediately with Will. They had lived together before getting married, something her parents found every opportunity to tell her they objected to. Eventually, it became too much for Charlotte and she stopped talking to them completely, despite Will's protestations. Her family had not attended, nor been invited to, Will and Charlotte's wedding.

Will… Charlotte felt a tiny twinge of unease. Taking on this job meant keeping secrets from Will. And while her husband was usually very understanding about her inability to talk about her top secret job, how would she be able to keep from him the fact that she was now investigating the company he worked for? She knew she was being paranoid, and that Will never asked too many questions. His job as a chemical researcher at GeneCo kept him happy and kept their finances very comfortable, so he never pressured her about her own work. Nevertheless, she felt nervous about the job anyway.

She thought about the conversation she had that morning with Dimitri as well, about the possibility that this job would require her to get very friendly with Rotti Largo. It wasn't the sex that added to her nerves – she had done it before in the name of the job – but the fact, rather, that it was the CEO of the company her husband worked for. All of the members of her team knew and loved Will, and were probably just as worried about investigating his work as she was. _Everything leads back to Will_, Charlotte thought. She just wanted to make sure he stayed unharmed and unassuming through all of this.

Dimitri had demanded she take a night to think about the job, and make sure that she really would be ok with it. Charlotte thought about Rotti Largo: a powerful and intimidating man. Not bad looking at all, even handsome, in that bulky, beefy way that men of his age could be. He was rather refined in style, suave, but old-fashioned. Compared to the men she had been with in the past, he would be downright attractive.

She thought back: the Groff job, and the Anderrs job in Sweden, had both required her to sleep with someone as part of the mission. With Gunnar Ahlgren, personal valet to Mr. Josef Anderrs, she had been simply a distraction so Sam and Mike could sneak into Anderrs office unseen and unbothered. With Tim Schultz, brother-in-law of Jack Groff, it had been a bit more involved: the team needed inside information concerning the Groff family business, which Schultz had married into, and it had been Charlotte's job to seduce Schultz and convince him to tell her things he would never tell a stranger.

It wasn't exactly a common occurrence for members of the team to have to engage in sexual relations in their investigations; usually, they collected all the information they needed by reconnaissance or interviews. But now and then, as part of an elaborate investigation, someone might need to do it. Charlotte accepted it as a part of her job: not always required, but sometimes necessary. Mike and Nadir had both had to do it as well, she reasoned. Well, Mike's situation hardly counted – the one time he had been called upon to seduce the young editorial assistant, she had revealed everything she knew and then passed out drunk before the deed was done.

Charlotte gave a little start as she realized the passion between the boy and girl across the train had escalated slightly: she distinctly heard gasping and moaning. She forced herself to continue staring out the window, but she saw the older man on the seat in front of her turn around to stare at the couple in unconcealed disgust and shock. He cleared his throat in an attempt to get their attention, but the couple continued whatever it was they were doing. Charlotte noticed that the man was the only other person on the train who seemed remotely bothered by the sounds coming from the couple; everyone else was still completely absorbed in themselves: reading, listening to music, talking on phones.

It was interesting, the social changes that were going on, Charlotte thought. Things seemed to have changed so much and so rapidly in the past few years. She remembered, as a child, her parents objecting to their children watching violence or sex on TV, but even then, seeing it on TV had seemed mostly inescapable. There wasn't much on TV to watch that didn't have what her parents called "adult themes." As she got older, the adult themes moved from the TV screens to the streets, and she saw more and more of the behavior that only a few short years ago would have seemed taboo. Critics of society said that the world was spinning out of control: perhaps the incredibly quick-paced industrialization of the world had some hand in it, or perhaps the ever-changing fashions the city was so obsessed with. Others simply called it a second sexual revolution. Whatever the reason, the general theory was that society had been forced to evolve too quickly, and the result was the immoral society they lived in now.

The train was slowing down, and Charlotte got to her feet and collected all her bags. The moaning was still coming from the mass of jackets and hair across the aisle, and she spared them a quick glance as she moved from her seat. Whatever, it was their business. Charlotte wasn't about to tell them to stop. That was just how society was anymore.

With a screeching, shaky halt, the train stopped at the station and Charlotte got out. She walked quickly across the platform and down the steps. The apartment she shared with Will was only one block from the station. When they first moved in, the sound of the train passing through every couple of minutes had been an annoyance, but they got used to it. It was just part of the soundtrack of the city.

Charlotte resumed her musings on the day as she hurried across the street to her apartment. Perhaps it was that change in society – the liberalism, or decline, as some would say – of morals that had forced the government to play dirty too. After all, criminals, terrorists, law-breaking corporations and scam artists were going to reflect the loose morals of society. So the government, or teams like Charlotte's unit, had to play the same way.

She had blanched at first when she joined the team and learned about the often underhanded tactics they used to conduct an investigation. Lying, undercover identities, spying and bugging, and yes, slightly more unsavory actions: going to bed with an informant, for instance, or buying drugs or stolen goods from a supplier in order to better track the line of supply. Charlotte had been a young, wide-eyed FBI recruit, and had not at all been comfortable with the kind of investigations she was expected to conduct. But then, on her first case, she had been part of an international drug bust, and she realized the good that her work did. Her team disassociated itself with the FBI in some regards: they did the dirty work so that the government could keep its hands clean. In the end, the desired result was still achieved, no matter the tactics.

Charlotte had convinced herself over the years that everything she did, all the immoral actions, were part of a larger task. After years of telling herself that her team's immoral actions were alright if they worked toward the greater good, she had come to believe it.

She had reached the final unremarkable building on the washed out block and let herself in the front door. The opening landing was dingy, and the stairs creaked, but as far as New York apartments went, the one she owned with Will was not too bad. It was small, granted, but it was just the two of them. Charlotte climbed the stairs, three, four floors, and walked the short distance to 405. She pulled out her key and let herself into their apartment.

Charlotte flicked on the lights and glanced around at her apartment, checking the corners before she stepped in. It was one of those things from the Bureau, that, once taught, could not be erased: check the corners, clear the room, make sure no one followed you. But the room was normal as always. It was sparsely furnished: the apartment of two people who spent long hours at their jobs. The kitchen was stocked, the TV perched in front of the leather couch, and books and papers spilled off of the two desks in the living room to occupy the coffee table and floor.

Charlotte dumped her bags at the door and flopped down on the couch. She stayed unmoving for several minutes. At home she could relax, and she felt herself start to. The job would be fine. She was confident of it now.

She glanced at the clock – Will wouldn't be home for hours. She stretched, and thought she might make him dinner. That would be nice. Usually, he was home before her. He would appreciate dinner.

Two hours later, however, as Will Beauvais was walking into the apartment, questionable smells were issuing from the kitchen and Charlotte's angry muttering was just audible beneath the simultaneous beeping of the kitchen timer and the smoke alarm. The sight that greeted Will was comical, and he would have laughed if not for the anguish on his wife's face: Charlotte was bent over in front of the oven, pulling out a large pan of chicken breast. Smoke came from the back of the oven, and a pot on the stove was starting to bubble over. Will moved quickly to avert the disaster. In one swift movement, he had turned the burner on the stove off, moved the bubbling pot to an empty burner, taken up a potholder and with a quick kiss on her lips, lifted the hot pan out of Charlotte's hands.

"Looks like a proper French kitchen back here," he said lightly as he set the pan down on the counter. Charlotte, free of her burdens, grabbed a towel and fanned the smoke alarm until the sound stopped. She then turned around and crossly grabbed her half-drained wine glass from where it sat on the table and pouted, taking a sip.

"Not that I don't appreciate the efforts, but…" Will said, turning around to face her and smiling. "To what do I owe the honor of this fancy dinner? And why are you home so early?"

Charlotte scowled.

"It was supposed to be a nice dinner," she said. "I left the office early, so I was trying to surprise you…"

Will's smile broadened.

"Thanks," he walked over to her to peck her on the cheek. "That's really nice of you. What're we having?"

Charlotte glanced at the pan warily.

"It _was_ garlic chicken," she said. "I don't know if it's still edible."

Will walked back to the stove. He picked up a fork and used it to turn one of the breasts over.

"Looks fine to me," he said cheerily. "Delicious, in fact." He brought the pot over to the sink and drained the hot water through the colander, revealing the soggy peas inside, as Charlotte poured him a glass of wine and handed it to him.

"Next time I'll leave the cooking to the chemist," she laughed, knowing he would only enjoy dinner if she did too.

They continued fixing up around the kitchen – Charlotte cleaning the cookware and setting the table while Will salvaged the dinner – and a few minutes later, sat down together at their kitchen table to enjoy the meal. Will hid his wince at the strong garlicky taste well enough that Charlotte didn't even notice it.

"Devine, Mrs. Beauvais," Will said after they had finished eating. He lean back in his seat and swirled his wine before taking a sip.

Charlotte looked at him, sizing up her husband's expression.

"Really?" She asked doubtfully. "You can tell me if it wasn't. It'll help me learn for next time then."

"I promise, it was great," Will smiled. "Can we do this all the time? Come home from work early more often."

She returned his smile.

"So how was work today?" he asked.

Charlotte paused before answering. Will seemed completely normal; he asked her this question almost every day. He was just the same husband he always was: handsome, with short brown hair, a little taller than herself, well-built and clean looking. People always said they looked and acted like the model couple. Workaholics, both of them of course, but good-looking all the same. Nothing in Will's intelligent, dark brown eyes betrayed any motive behind the question.

"Fine," Charlotte answered. "We're starting a new case though, that's why I'm home early." She stood and started gathering the dishes, then carried them to the kitchen sink. "I guess Dimitri wanted to give us one easy day, considering it looks like I might be working overtime on this one," she called over her shoulder as she entered the kitchen.

Charlotte put the dishes in the sink and took a deep breath. Lie number one. Actually, it wasn't really a lie – she would most definitely be working overtime on this case, and Dimitri had dismissed the team early because he wanted them to have one night of rest before the heavy research began. So it wasn't a lie. But it was a charade, and Charlotte knew that over the next few weeks, or however long this case would take, she would have to keep up the charade with Will. This was just the beginning of the lies she would have to tell him.

"Hmmm," Will said by way of response as he entered the kitchen carrying what was left of the chicken. "So no more home-cooked dinners." He pouted dramatically, and Charlotte laughed.

"We'll see," she said. "So how was your day?"

"Pretty good, actually," Will said, scooping the chicken into a Tupperware and putting it in the refrigerator. "We had a couple of new research assistants start in our department today, so that means that we're finally getting some recognition. I think they're really going to do some promising work."

"Oh? Good," Charlotte said, taking a mental note. This was going to be weird, using her husband as an informant. She suppressed a shudder of guilt as she asked, "Do they want to expand your department you think?"

"Maybe," Will replied. "I would certainly hope so. I mean it looks like the whole company is expanding, but it would be good to have some focus on us."

Will was a medical researcher employed by GeneCo. More specifically, he worked in a lab devoted to developing artificial tissue and organs for children and infants. Two years ago, GeneCo realized that its production of artificial tissue, so successful in adult surgeries, was beginning to see a market for children too. Will had been working as a pediatrician when GeneCo recruited him. At the time, he had hated to leave his patients, but he couldn't refuse the promise of research in a blossoming medical field and helping children, whether they needed replacement tissue or new organs. The research job at GeneCo had also provided regular hours and a pay raise, which came at the time when Will and Charlotte wanted to start a family. He had taken the job, and loved it ever since. Will's department was a fledgling one, but it was a favorite of GeneCo's public relations team – doctors and researchers, making a better tomorrow for our children.

"But other than that, no amazing breakthroughs in science?" Charlotte asked teasingly. Will chuckled.

"No, not today," he said. He paused, leaning on the kitchen counter and watching her as she finished drying a plate. "So did you think any more about what we talked about this weekend?"

Charlotte looked at him. In truth, she hadn't been able to think about much today besides the new case. She felt guilty, as she knew Will wanted to talk more about their decision to adopt a baby.

"I guess…" Charlotte said. "I guess I haven't thought about it too much." Will looked disappointed. "But," she said, mirroring his position and leaning against the wall to face him, "I know we have a lot of talking to do about it still, but… let me just tell you what I'm feeling right now." She took a breath. She didn't always profess her feelings easily, but tonight's dinner, and especially Will's lovable company, had put her in a good mood. "I feel very happy with where you and I are, and I feel that we'd be ready for anything together. This is a big decision, so of course we've got to talk some more, but… it feels… I don't know. Right."

She smiled at him, and the loving adoration on his face only brightened her smile.

"That was beautiful, babe, did you come up with that yourself?" Will teased, and she couldn't help but laugh. Maybe the wine had gone to both their heads, but Charlotte could sense the love and strength of their relationship, and she made no attempts to stop Will when he strode across the kitchen and kissed her fiercely. Next moment he had scooped her up in his arms and was carrying her to their bedroom. Charlotte couldn't help but laugh like the teenager she had been when she met Will. Things were so easy and simple with him. Comfortable.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Next chapter we'll finally see a younger Rotti and Charlotte meet for the first time! Please leave a review, I love them. _


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: I don't think I've put the disclaimer yet – oh well. I own nothing! Hope you enjoy._

* * *

The entrance lobby of the Sylvester building was a grandiose, airy, lighted room, with a high ceiling, large windows and a peacefully trickling fountain. If one was looking out at the city from inside the lobby, it would seem bright and sunny outside, and as such, the lobby betrayed itself in its artificiality. One only had to exit through the large entrance doors to see that the outside was the same smoggy, dirty, noisy city it had been when they had entered.

Charlotte was not fooled by the coolness of the lobby: the trying-too-hard shine and marble were prime examples of how the business district tried to pretend that things were the same as they had always been. The cleanliness of the building compared to the muck outside its own doors was laughable.

She stood now in the oppressive sheen of the lobby alongside Nadir and Alex, waiting for to be brought to the GeneCo offices, which were located on the 71st through 74th floors. She was dressed impeccably in a black suit jacket, pencil skirt and heels. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. She was all business. She was Anna Freir now.

Next to her stood Nadir as Union President Charles Davenport dressed in a crisp gray suit, his dark hair combed back across his head, and Alex as Financial Secretary Robert Moore, dressed in a black suit to match Charlotte's. Alex, or rather Robert, was typing on his phone, while Nadir/Charles looked around the lobby, as if tickled by its charms. Above all, he looked happiest to be here, while Robert and Anna simply looked expectant, and ready to spring into business. They were all very much in character.

"Mr. Davenport!" A reedy voice called from behind them, and all three turned to see two men approaching them from the elevators on the other side of the lobby. "So pleased to see you here," the man spoke, a wide smile stretching his leathery face. He reached the group and shook hands with Nadir.

"Mr. Truxis," Nadir smiled warmly, speaking with the artificial lite-English accent they had decided was appropriate for Mr. Davenport. He greeted the man, Truxis, who Charlotte knew was GeneCo's liaison to the union. "Good to be here."

Truxis then turned to Alex and Charlotte. "And you must be Mr. Moore and Ms. Freir," he said, shaking their hands. The man's palms felt as worn as his face looked. "A pleasure, a pleasure to finally meet you. May I introduce my colleague: this is Arthur Fahy, a representative from GeneCo's Board of Trustees."

Truxis gestured to the man next to him. He could only have been a few years younger than Truxis, but Arthur Fahy had obviously been made young again through several successful plastic surgeries. He had a stretched look about his face, with high cheekbones, a perfectly slender nose, and zero wrinkles. The effect was effective, artificial, and a tiny bit frightening. Fahy greeted Nadir, Charlotte and Alex in turn.

"Please, follow me upstairs," Truxis gestured back to the elevators, and the company followed him. They exchanged a few comments of idle chatter, the weather, the traffic, how lovely the building looked, as they rose to the 74th floor. Charlotte knew it was a rapid rise, but she could hardly feel a thing. They had arrived in less than a minute.

The doors opened to reveal a large, luxurious antechamber. The walls were a deep mahogany, and soft light illuminated several works of Renaissance-imitation art that hung on the walls. Plush red couches and chairs lined the room. Truxis led the group through a large pair of wooden doors into another room with several other doors. Charlotte was looking around discreetly, taking note of plaques on the doors, anything that might be worthwhile. She felt and knew her team members were doing the same. Still, they all felt caught off guard when one of the doors to their left opened, and Rotti Largo stalked out, a trail of associates following him. They had clearly been in the middle of a discussion, but fell silent when they realized their company had arrived.

"Right on time," Rotti Largo's face barely registered surprise before it was a happy, polite countenance. The professional, restrained smile that they all knew from his well-publicized social and philanthropic appearances had appeared on his face, leaving no trace of whatever he might have been feeling or thinking seconds ago.

"Ah, Mr. Largo!" Truxis turned to face his employer. "I hope we weren't keeping you waiting."

"Not at all," Rotti replied. "We were just on our way to the meeting." He still appeared friendly, but his eyes were flitting over the union representatives in an analytical way. Charlotte thought his eyes paused over her for a moment, but no, he was pausing at Alex and Nadir as well.

"Well, let me make the introductions," Truxis said, turning back to his guests. "Mr. Largo, these are the leaders of our employees' union. Mr. Charles Davenport is president of the union, and this is Mr. Robert Moore, Financial Secretary, and Ms. Anna Freir, VP of Employee Relations."

Rotti moved to shake hands with each person as they were introduced. His hands were large and warm. He wore a dark gray suit, with varying tones of deep red on his shirt, tie and lapel. Charlotte smiled in what she hoped was a winning way as she greeted him.

"Mr. Largo, it's a pleasure," Nadir spoke on behalf of the group. "Thank you for taking the trouble to meet with us today."

"Of course, of course," Rotti waved his hand nonchalantly, as if to say it was no trouble at all. "You were right of course – as GeneCo moves forward in its endeavors, it's imperative that we keep an open line of communication. I'm sorry that we haven't exactly done so before."

"Well, that's just something I'd like to do now that I'm president," Nadir replied as the entire group was ushered into a conference room through a door to their right. "I'd like to stay in touch with the management of every company that a union member of ours is employed by, but seeing as how so many of our workers are employed with your company, this is a primary concern."

"You were recently elected president of the union, correct?" Rotti asked as the group filed in and founds seats around the large table in the center of the room.

"Yes," Nadir said. "Yes, I'm afraid my predecessor was only president in title, just between us. Didn't really do very much." Alex chuckled to support the story as the group took its seats.

"Yes, well, I'm sure we can change all that," Rotti smiled as he sat down at one of the table's ends. Charlotte noticed the smile was not genuine – he was here purely because he had to be. She was certain he actually knew very few of the people he employed. She knew for a fact that Rotti Largo and Will had never met. She looked around as she sat down – she was the only woman in attendance.

"I suppose we should start then," Truxis began. "If everyone is ready?"

Rotti nodded, and Nadir said, "Yes, let's."

The meeting began with introductions. Charles Davenport, Anna Freir and Robert Moore were introduced to the GeneCo Board of Directors, and vice versa. Nadir spoke about the union's goals in opening communication between the two sides, and Truxis and his associates agreed with everything Nadir proposed. There didn't seem to be much to disagree about, Charlotte realized. GeneCo seemed completely willing to work with them, to keep the union happy. And Nadir was careful in how he asked about the company and its workforce. _He never makes anything seem fishy on a job_, Charlotte thought with admiration for Nadir in his subtle accumulation of information.

The group talked for several hours about the goals and problems, GeneCo workers faced, and had just decided that union representatives would visit the GeneCo factories regularly when Rotti Largo suggested the group take a quick break. It was evidently needed; many of the members of the Board of Directors were older and appeared to be losing interest, or at least found it harder to pay attention. Many rose from their chairs and left the room, chatting with each other about checking their messages and dinner reservations, while others struck up side conversations with their neighbors.

"Mr. Truxis," Charlotte leaned toward the older man. "Is there somewhere I can sneak off to for a quick smoke?"

"Of course, Ms. Freir," Truxus said, and he beckoned to a young male secretary who had been sitting off to the side taking notes. "Show Ms. Freir the balcony," he instructed. "I think you'll be very impressed with our balcony, Ms. Freir," he added to Charlotte with a smile.

"Thank you," she said, returning the smile. She grabbed her coat and purse and followed the secretary through and adjoining room, which was richly furnished and held a large mahogany desk. One half of the room was made up of walls papered in deep red, with antique gas lamps providing soft light. The other half of the room was walled entirely by windows that reached from the rich carpet to the ceiling, and let in the dull morning light. The view through these windows was of other skyscrapers, but it was impressive nonetheless. The secretary showed Charlotte to a set of sliding glass doors, where beyond, a stone balcony jutted out over the road far below.

Charlotte thanked her escort, and he left her. She rummaged in her purse and brought out her cell phone, her pack of cigarettes and a lighter. While she lit the cigarette and put it to her mouth, she turned on the cell phone. It had been shut off during the meeting. Now however, while she was on her own, would be the perfect opportunity to activate the phone's scanner, which would work in silence for several minutes and then provide her with a blueprint of the entire building floor. She started the activation and watched as the invisible scan began.

A noise from behind her made her start in surprise, and she turned quickly to see Rotti Largo stepping through another set of sliding glass doors, to the area of the balcony farthest from her. She gave him a smile and a small wave, and, noticing her, he walked toward her. Charlotte surreptitiously held the phone at her side while she smoked.

"Ms. Freir," Rotti smiled when he reached her. "I think we've come a long way this morning, don't you?"

"Yes, absolutely," she replied. "It is really such a relief to see you all so happy to work with us. It makes for the best result all around."

While she was speaking Rotti had pulled out a cigar. She offered her lighter, which he accepted with a smile.

"I didn't realize we were celebrating," she said, taking the lighter back and nodding at his cigar.

"I'm afraid I smoke them a bit too often," he said. "They are a great pleasure of mine, and I enjoy them. And," he added with a laugh, "We've just spent the morning going over GeneCo's success. I think they are a luxury I can afford at the moment."

Charlotte chuckled in agreement. _Not afraid to show off the fact that he's loaded_, she thought. _Does this work on all the girls, Rotti?_ It occurred to her that it might have been no accident that she was ushered to this balcony, or that Rotti followed shortly after. But she brushed the thought away to focus on the man before her.

"Well, at any rate, I think congratulations _are_ in order," she said. "I know we only mentioned this briefly at the meeting, but I was reading about GeneCo's new contract with the army – quite an achievement."

"Thank you," Rotti said, taking a puff on his cigar. "General Williams is a good friend of mine, and he put in the good word for us. But yes, it's an exciting moment for us."

"You'll be working with supplying medical supplies and replacement tissue, yes?" Charlotte asked.

"Yes – initially. We'll hopefully be expanding our research departments as well, even embedding our scientists with units who are fighting abroad," Rotti explained. "That way we should be able to develop our medical technology as the same rate as war technology. Or at least keep up with war technology."

"Kind of scary to think that weapons can only get worse," said Charlotte, blowing smoke away from him.

"Yes," Rotti acknowledged. "Yes it is indeed. But GeneCo has pledged to support our boys no matter what horrors the enemy concocts next. And we will do just that."

Charlotte could not help but notice that he was certainly looking her over as he spoke, but he made no mention of anything beside their casual talk about GeneCo. She was surprised – and slightly unsettled – by how withdrawn and polite he was. It was easy to speak to him. Given his womanizing reputation, she supposed she was expecting him to come right out and try something. He was acting completely normal, and so was she. For now, they were just two professional adults, who had taken notice of each other but had not acted on anything yet. And here she was, talking to him about GeneCo, which was the goal. Charlotte dropped her cigarette on the ground and crushed it beneath the sole of her heel.

"So, Mr. Largo," she began, but he interrupted her.

"Please," he said with another smile. "Just call me Rotti."

Charlotte grinned happily back at him. "Ok, Rotti." She could not help but be affected by his charm and easy manner. "So much going on with GeneCo," she said, taking a breath as if in wonder of his company's prowess. "What's next?"

Rotti returned her smile.

"Let me just say that our employees will be very busy over the next several weeks," he answered, his smile playing up to his eyes as her watched her react to his vague statement.

"Oh?" Charlotte said. She raised her eyebrow in mock curiosity, playing his game, but on the inside, her heart raced. _This could be it_. "Do tell."

"I'm afraid I can't say any more just yet," he smiled. "Not just yet." And he too left the remainder of his cigar on the stone balcony ledge and walked back inside the building with a last smile at her.

Charlotte waited a moment, and then followed him. She was sure the team would learn much about GeneCo through the continuing meeting. But what Rotti had teased her about… what could it mean?

It seemed that Senator Hammond's desire for an inquiry was warranted – perhaps GeneCo had something to hide after all.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: I do not own Repo or any of the characters except my own._

* * *

"So where do we stand so far?"

It was 9 a.m. Tuesday morning, and the team had just settled into the closed conference room to go over what they had learned in their first day of undercover. Mike spoke first.

"Well, Sam and I had our first day on the job as GeneCo employees," he said dramatically. Sam chuckled. "And I have to say, did we uncover a lot of dirt."

Alex snorted with laughter and Dimitri rolled his eyes.

"Very funny, Mike," he said dryly. "Do tell us about your first day as a janitor."

Mike smiled innocently. He and Sam had been assigned a very different cover than Charlotte and the others had: they would be new janitors assigned to GeneCo's uptown factory. The two would have varying shifts so as to be exposed to the greatest amount of GeneCo employees possible. They would collect information, and – when possible – samples of what was being worked on in the labs. They would not have the direct contact to the management that Charlotte, Nadir and Alex would, but they still get a good look at GeneCo, albeit from a different, but necessary, view: from the bottom, up.

"Not much happened," Sam answered. "The foreman just showed us around the labs and offices we'll be cleaning, and then showed us the factory floor. The factory floor is huge, obviously – that's where they manufacture a good portion of GeneCo's products. Above the factory are three floors of labs and offices, and each lab has a specific focus – optical, cardio, appendages – you name it." Charlotte was familiar with the factory's layout – Will worked on the second floor, and she had visited many times.

"So you two will be cleaning all these places?" Dimitri asked.

"Yes, and so we'll be able to grab samples, talk to the workers and scientists, and find out if there's anything going on," Mike said.

"And that factory was creepy to the nth degree," Sam added. "I always knew what GeneCo provided to its clients, but to see realistic body parts and organs being manufactured… pretty gross."

Charlotte felt her stomach turn. Yes, GeneCo as a medical company did some amazing work. But she wasn't keen on seeing any of the products, and she silently thanked Dimitri for assigning her to work the white collar circuit. Of course, it also would have been impossible for her to work at the factory, for the very reason she was about to bring up.

"I know you don't need reminding," she said, looking at Mike and Sam. "But my husband _does_ work in that factory, and he knows who you really are – how are you going to get around seeing him?"

"I think we've got it worked out," Mike said carefully. He flipped through his case file and pulled out the work schedule the foreman had assigned him. "You said Will's working a regular 9 to 5, right Char? I'm doing the night shift at the factory until further notice. The only time I'll have to worry about running into Will is when we're coming and going. I'll go out the back or something."

"And I'm working random afternoons mostly," Sam said, looking at his work schedule. "So I'll just stay away from his lab. He doesn't know me as well as the rest of you, so there's always the chance he may not even recognize me."

Charlotte nodded, satisfied for the time being. Her team had always been discreet; she was sure they could handle it now.

"Ok," Dimitri said. "And Nadir, Charlotte and Alex had their meeting yesterday. A recap, guys?"

"The meeting went well, I think," Nadir said, and Charlotte and Alex nodded in agreement. "For all that it was – that is, a preliminary, introductory meeting – I think we established a strong rapport."

Dimitri nodded at Nadir. "Sounds good. Learn anything new?"

"I don't believe so," Nadir said. He looked at Alex, who nodded in agreement. "We were able to compile some notes on the Board of Trustees, so we've expanded their profiles a bit. All of you will be able to read about it in the shared case file on the network."

"How'd it feel, being there? GeneCo doesn't suspect anything?" Dimitri asked.

"Doesn't feel like it," Alex said thoughtfully. "They know that the Senate has been looking into them, but so far it seems like they think the Senate investigation hasn't gone anywhere. They know they are the most prominent new business in the country right now, so it felt natural to have the union reps meet. They seemed fine with our meeting."

"Good," Dimitri said. "And Ferdie's been hard at work here while you all were away yesterday. Where do we stand now on our digital dirt?"

"I'm working on getting remote access to their network, but it's been slow going," Ferdie said, his eyebrows knitting together in slight annoyance. "They have a relatively watchful defense system, but it's a bit stronger than I thought it would be. I'm using our Carnivore system, but I've had to tip toe around their files to make sure their system doesn't recognize a foreign user.

"All that I've done so far is pretty much watch their computer screens. I can see when Rotti sends an email, when Truxis has his assistant pay his credit card bill, when someone's reading a news page – stuff like that. But watching, that's just the first step." He sat up a bit straighter and looked around at them all seriously. "I'm working on accessing older files, so I'll be able to see email correspondence, deleted data, whatever."

"Good," Dimitri said. "It's a start – good work."

Charlotte cleared her throat.

"I guess now would be the time to mention," Charlotte began hesitantly. "About the conversation Rotti and I had during the meeting break?"

Nadir and Alex looked at her in surprise – they hadn't even realized Charlotte and Rotti had met outside of the meeting room the day before. Charlotte briefly described her balcony encounter with the CEO, and how he had hinted that GeneCo was working on something big.

"I really didn't know what to make of it," Charlotte said. "It didn't seem like a bad thing, but he certainly made it sound as if it was supposed to be a surprise."

"The Board didn't tell us about anything coming up that might affect the union workers," Nadir sad, his forehead creasing in thought as he tried to remember.

"He might have just meant that it was going to be a lot of work for GeneCo to fulfill their contract with the army," Mike pointed out.

Dimitri frowned, his eyebrows drawing together as he weighed what Charlotte had said. "Hmmm," he said. "I really don't know what to make of it. I'll speak to the senator about it later; maybe this is what happened when they were asking Rotti about the company and he shut them out. It could be important…" his voice trailed off, and his eyes looked at Charlotte, though his thoughts seemed very, very far away. "…Or he could just be teasing you."

Charlotte nodded. "That's possible."

"Definitely continue your work with Rotti though, Charlotte," Dimitri said, seemingly snapping out of his thoughts. He folded his hands and looked around at the group. "Sam, Mike, see if there's any talk of this new… whatever it could be – on the factory floor. Nadir, Alex and Charlotte, keep talking with the Board. The three of you will have time with Rotti and the Board on Thursday for your tour of the factory. It's ok for you to ask about upcoming projects, because whatever GeneCo does affects your workers, don't forget that."

He watched as his team nodded at him in agreement before continuing.

"Another thing – if you hadn't noticed already, we're completely on assignment now, so that means when you're on company time, you're undercover," Dimitri said, and his look was firm. "So, if you need to leave the building, whether during the day or to come and go from work, you'll be using the service hallways and entrances. Don't be too conspicuous about it. Remember to think about your covers – be prepared for anything. You've got to answer to both names now. We don't anticipate anyone from GeneCo looking into our union too deeply, but you can't be too careful. Got it?" He surveyed them all carefully, before looking satisfied with their level of dedication. "All right. Let's get back to work everyone."

The group rose from the table. Yesterday had been an uneventful first day for most of them, but Charlotte felt as if her brain was already buzzing with information. She returned to her desk and took out a piece of paper. On it she scrawled, in cursive, a signature: "Anna Freir." She looked at the name. Anna. Anna Freir. She continued to gaze at the paper, thinking. She would have to clearly separate Anna and Charlotte. Anna was unhappy in her marriage but happy in her work. Being friendly with Rotti was a natural move for Anna. Charlotte, however, had a life, was in love with Will, and was thinking of adopting a child with him. _You're Anna at work, and Charlotte at home_, she told herself.

Charlotte booted up her computer and opened up her team's shared investigation file. The file was protected and thus could only be accessed by herself and her team members, though it was located on the Bureau's server. She typed in the password and opened the notes on GeneCo. Dropping the page with Anna's name written on it, Charlotte opened up a second file that contained information on Rotti Largo to date, and started reading.

* * *

"Hey!" Mike's voice cut across her concentrated haze, and Charlotte jumped. She realized he must have called out to her more than once.

"Yeah?" she asked. "Yeah, what is it?"

Mike looked at her, his expression amused.

"I'm hungry. You down to order something? Since we obviously can't go out. We're undercover, after all," he added darkly. Charlotte nodded.

"Whatever you want," she said.

"I'm just calling in a couple of sandwiches from the deli," he said as he picked up his phone.

Charlotte listened vaguely as Mike placed their order. She glanced at her watch – 12:50. Several hours had passed since she had begun her reading and she hadn't even noticed. She had been so absorbed that she wasn't even hungry- no, wait. That was her stomach growling. It rumbled louder, making her wonder how she could have possibly not felt this before, and making the 20 minutes they waited until the food had arrived all the more agonizing.

"Be right down," Mike said into the phone. "Come on," he said, standing up. "Food's here. Walk with me to the lobby?"

"Don't have to ask me twice," Charlotte said, following him down the rows of cubicles and toward the elevators. Mike pressed the button to call an elevator then stepped back to look at Charlotte, his hands in his pockets.

"What?" she asked.

Mike glanced around, making sure they were alone. They always felt safe talking about cases on this floor – everyone who worked on this floor had proved themselves trustworthy time and time again – but it didn't hurt to be a little extra cautious. But no one else seemed to be going down for lunch right then, so Mike spoke quietly.

"Ferdie and I spent the afternoon doing some more hacking into the GeneCo network," he said. "We haven't gotten very far, but we've been able to keep an eye on the emails Rotti and the board have been sending and receiving today. It'll take a little time to go back further to see what they've done. But you should know that Rotti inquired as to how well Truxis knew our Anna."

The elevator pinged to signal its arrival, and Mike and Charlotte stepped inside. Three other men were taking the elevator down. One was speaking into his cell phone in a foreign language, and the other two were discussing the baseball game from the night before.

"Huh," Charlotte said nonchalantly, acutely aware that this was no longer a private conversation. "That's certainly… interesting." She could not help but give a nervous chuckle.

"Yeah," Mike answered with a small smile. "Seems he was impressed by your little chat."

"We seriously only spoke for like, three minutes," Charlotte said.

"Well, think about it," Mike reasoned as the elevator doors opened to reveal the hallway that led to the building entrance. Mike held the elevator doors for the other gentlemen, who walked briskly away. Charlotte and Mike walked toward the lobby at a more leisurely pace. "From the research we've pulled so far, companies working with GeneCo usually cater to anything Rotti might want. They see him as a powerful figure, and so they want to get in good with him. Companies and hospitals hoping to make a deal with him are always taking him out or presenting him with girls who are 'part of their work team,'" Mike snorted. "So that's where he gets that playboy reputation from. And then, in conjunction with that reputation, the girls he meets are always throwing themselves all over him, hoping to get a piece of that man's fortune somehow. Compared to all those other women, he was probably impressed with your restraint." He laughed, and Charlotte punched him lightly in the arm.

They had arrived at the lobby, and a young boy was waiting by the reception desk with a brown paper bag. Mike handed the boy the company credit card and waited while the boy ran the card through the reader on his arm. Charlotte was quiet as they waited for the boy to hand the card back and leave, but she couldn't help but feel a glowing surge of success at Mike's report. She had worried yesterday that Rotti would not be interested in her, but it seemed she was wrong: Rotti had bought her act, and was indeed interested, as it seemed.

"Hey, wait," Mike said, peering into the bag. "There's supposed to be a diet soda in here."

The boy looked at Mike questioningly as if he didn't understand. Mike frowned.

"I ordered a soda, and it's not in here," he said testily.

"Sorry man," the boy replied, though he didn't look sorry at all. "I just deliver, I don't write down the order."

"It's ok," Charlotte jumped in. "Mike, we'll just stop at the newsstand and grab one."

Mike rolled his eyes but took the credit card back when the boy handed it to him. The boy turned without a word and left the building. Charlotte gave Mike's arm a squeeze and laughed.

"Come on, it's not a big deal," she said, taking the bag from him and turning back down the hallway. There was a small newsstand shop right before the elevators, and Mike walked in and grabbed a soda from the refrigerator. He brought it to the register and handed the vendor a bill. He turned to look at Charlotte, who stood at the entrance of the shop, while he waited for his change.

"So anyway, you've got your work cut out for you, miss." He looked at her closely. "Rotti's reputation is definitely going to be part of the job."

Charlotte nodded. Part of the job. Mike collected his change from the vendor and turned to Charlotte, but he did a double-take at the newsstand next to the register. Charlotte followed his gaze. It was a newspaper dispenser, the kind that had an electronic screen that would descend once change was inserted so one could take their print newspaper. When the machine was not in use, electronic headlines would flash across the screen, teasing the articles of the paper inside. As Charlotte watched, the headlines in bright, blinking lights lit up the screen: "Priscilla Largo takes $30 million in divorce from GeneCo CEO."

She looked at the text, uncomprehending for a moment, before exhaling slowly. "Oh shit," she said under her breath. Mike looked at her, his face creased in thought.

"The plot thickens," he said. "I wonder how his reputation will come into effect now."

Charlotte could only shrug and wonder the same thing herself.


End file.
